Humanity Rises
by Legendary Swordsman
Summary: Driven to the point of despair, Viktor has abandoned the Glorious Evolution and life along with it. Yet before he could take that final step into the abyss, his arch rival Jayce is there at every turn, thwarting his every move to the last and saving his life. The Zaunite's claim for change has caused strife for Ezreal and the Defender. What is humanity? WIP Collab 3 RPers.
1. Chapter 1

Furious winds whipped about the clothes of the two men as the hero watched the Herald stand upon the edge of the tower. "What are you doing?!" he called out to him, the dense yellow fog of Zaun brushing between the two figures." You're going to throw away a life's worth of work, and for what?!" his voice struggling to carry through the fierce winds. "This isn't the Machine Herald that struck me down so many years ago! WHERE IS _HE_?!" the hero stretching his arm out as if to grab at the other man.

"Dead. As I will be." Viktor turned around, his cape whipping about his calves, and reached behind his head, prying off his iconic mask before tossing it to the Hero. "A memento.

"Thank you, Jayce, and farewell."

The Zaunite felt the winds whirling around them atop the tower's edge. Viktor took this moment to breathe in the place he had lived and suffered in. He looked around one last time seeing the primordial muck that is his world and all he would ever know. And slowly, his dark, moribund eyes rose to meet the Defender's. Viktor stared into the only pure blue to be seen in Zaun, and he shook his head.

Energy suddenly ignited the air and a laser cut across the Defender's feet, as Viktor leaned backwards arms wide open, embracing freedom.

Hairs stood on end as the Defender pushed himself forward, throwing the Half-caste's steel visage aside. "NOT TODAY, VIKTOR." his voice bellowed out into the winds. Diving into the coarse metal underneath him, his hand grasping the tail end of the Herald's coat. Jetting the defender to slide forward. His other hand vigorously grasping at a side pipe to gain stability. Jayce's teeth ground into each other as he attempted to heave the herald upwards. "You're not going to die today, half-caste." the hero roared. "You hear me? You want to be remembered as a failure?! As the man that died a monster?" Jayce's words cutting into the other like a knife. "You're not allowed to die. Not today." a hoarse groan came out of the man as his arm strained under the weight of the herald. Finally pulling the man up far enough to grab the third appendage that hung off of the half-caste.

"YOU. ARE. _NOT. ALLOWED_. TO. DIE." Jayce screamed at the other. His eyes fixated on the only point of contact between the two. Scrapes from the dive caused the defender to bleed from his face and hands. Another struggled growl came out of the hero as he strained to pull the man up.

"You fool!" Viktor clenched his teeth, feeling the back of his legs clash sharply against the edge of the structure. He grunted as the blunt force shook him, and his eyes widened, staring up into the blue. "Let go!" he cried, desperation seeping into his voice. "I've lost everything! Viktor has long been dead! Just… LET GO!" The man screamed, begging now, "_Please, Jayce, no more… Please._"

He hung there by his cloak, his metal noose, watching Jayce trying in vain to pull him back in to the hellish world he wanted to escape. He watched the Hero grit his teeth, straining. He watched as the man's shoulders tore themselves apart. Yet Viktor knew, the fall was inevitable. No mere man, no matter how heroic, could lift a quarter ton of metal with just one arm.

But then a thought occurred to him, the Zaunite knew he would rob Valoran of its brighter tomorrow if he struggled or simply hung still, both of them would plummet. There was no fail in his calculation. The outcome had a one hundred percent probability. He ground his teeth, mirroring Jayce, this man who had antagonized his every move, this man who he had nothing but hurt and ruin. Even here, when he had given up everything, this hero was still here trying to pull him back to existence.

Viktor looked at Jayce and saw that same determination he had witnessed since that first day. He let out a defeated sigh. He knew what he must do. The mechanical arm sprung to life and shot forth, burying its four digits into the tower's face. And he pulled. Viktor reached up, willing flesh and steel to life, and he pulled.

"_Jayce…"_


	2. Chapter 2

**"It's time." **

"It's time? It's time for _what_, Herald?" the explorer asked, approaching the man from behind. Usually, he would have never even considered going near Viktor unless it was for good reason, but now he felt an odd…aura surrounding the Zaunite, and he longed to uncover more.

"What are you trying to pull?" Ezreal cocked a brow, crossing his arms to his chest. Though something was definitely different, the explorer's guard was kept up, and his gauntlet flashed accordingly in stop-start bursts.

Viktor turned around at the familiar voice that belonged to the Prodigal Explorer. The Zaunite stood there without his iconic mask, instead wearing a pair of goggles, with his face revealed to all. He took a deep breath before he replied, "It's time for me to end this. I am done.

"And I am… _abandoning _the Glorious Evolution…."

Empty eyes stared back into deep aquatic ones, "Prodi- No, Ezreal. Ezreal, I am sorry."

As Viktor turned around to face him, Ezreal stared at the maskless Zaunite and cocked his head, curious and maybe even secretly a bit worried. Although his mind was telling him to stop, the explorer softly trudged forward to get a better look at the Herald as he spoke, his bright eyes never leaving Viktor's darkened ones.

_"It's time for me to end this. I am done. _

_I am… abandoning the Glorious Evolution…."_

Ezreal's breath hitched, and his lips parted slightly in surprise upon hearing the man's words. Viktor was…_abandoning_ the Glorious Evolution? Something that he had worked and strived for for the better half of a decade he was just…_giving up_? Somehow, in his shock, Ezreal managed to find his voice again.

"…What?" he inquired the apparent ex-Herald, though his voice was barely above a whisper. His blue gaze narrowed as his gauntlet flickered defensively again with a bright yellow light.

_He said my **name**._

"I don't believe you."

"I do not blame you," Viktor shook his head, "After what I have done to you… and Nadri, too, I am sorry, Ezreal. Even if you do not accept my apology - how can you after all of this? - I want to let you know that the Machine Herald is dead. I am done with it….

"Has Jayce not told you?" the man furrowed his brows at explorer. Judging by Ezreal's reaction, he continued, "I… I've lost everything as both Viktor and now as the Machine Herald. I just want all of this to end. And when… when I was ready to throw everything away into the black abyss," a vivid image of Jayce's fierce, determined face appeared in his mind, "the Hero was there to stop me….

"As I stared up into _his_ eyes, I realized something… I realized I was wrong…."

Ezreal brought a hand to his scalp, lightly scratching some of the blonde locks, continuing to look on in confusion. While Viktor _did_ seem genuine, the explorer was still treading cautiously, unsure what to make of the entire situation. Regardless of the matter at hand, Ezreal sure as hell wasn't ready to accept the man's apology even if he _was_ telling the truth.

_I haven't seen Jayce around, but something tells me him and I should probably have a talk._

"You tried to kill yourself?" he asked, not unkindly, gruff voice a bit stronger now. "…and Jayce stopped you?"

_Why would he do that? Not that it wasn't the right thing to do…_

It seemed strange that someone as brilliant as Viktor would ever consider suicide. As insane as his ideals and thoughts were, no one could deny the Zaunite had a superb mind that would definitely help scientific research in all of Valoran should he actually put it to constructive use.

"…That's all it took to make you realize you were wrong?" the explorer whispered, though his tone was heated. "It took Jayce **_staring at you_** to make you realize you terrorized a myriad of summoners and champions and forced me to send one of my closest friends away because of fear you would _hurt_ them? That's **_all_ **it took?"

The hero had found himself at the crossroads between a brother of Piltover and the Machine Herald. Jayce locked in a haze of the new image of Viktor. The last he had seen of the herald was a top the tower in Zaun, caught in the yellow fog that consumed the city in it's grasp. The herald about to take his own life had the Defender not made swift action to stop such a thing from happening.

His head softly shook as he recalled the images in his head. He stalled for but a few moments more until finally leaning against a neighboring wall. "It wasn't a stare." Jayce called out to grab the attention of the other two men. "Far from it…" his voice trailed off. The hero's cheek still bruised from the dive. His eyes wandered between the two before finally speaking again. "I don't know why I did it, now that I look back on it. Was it my moral upbringing of never letting another in crisis go unchecked? I'm not sure." his head lowering "But it seems it changed someone for he better… Perhaps for the better." the view of the hero darting over to the now exposed face of Viktor.

"There are no lies to be had in his tale, Ezreal."

Viktor inhaled sharply, surprised at himself for not noticing the Defender sooner. He was truly out of it right now, he thought to himself; normally, he was always aware of his surroundings. He made it a point to analyze every room he entered.

The Zaunite turned to the Hero, who was leaning against a nearby wall, and immediately something that resembled a pained expression crossed his usual stoic face when he saw the bruising on the other man's cheek had turned from red to a sickly purple in just a few days time.

Although this was something that would heal quickly in time, the bruise reminded Viktor of the permanent damage he had inflicted on the man from trauma to disfigurement just to name a few. He pressed his lips tightly together when he saw Ezreal's reaction.

"This," he motioned to the discoloration, "is a testament to both of our actions, Ezreal."

Ezreal quickly spun around, becoming a flurry of blonde, blue, and brown for a second as he heard a comforting, familiar voice behind him. As his vision focused, he saw the Defender leaning against the wall, looking calm and collected aside from the slight twinge of concern that graced his usually sharp and serious features.

_Jayce._

With a quick burst of speed, the explorer ran over to the Defender, ocean eyes wide as he studied the man's right cheek, taking note of the discoloration; a fairly large purple and blue shape that was obvious even from far away. Ezreal almost had the urge to touch it, but stopped himself before his arm began to move.

"I _want_ to believe you." the blonde bit his lip, eyes darting back and forth between the Zaunite and the man he'd gladly trust with his life, feeling internally conflicted. After a while, he stayed looking at Jayce only, shrugging limply and obviously hurt.

_What if this is a trick and we're walking right into it? What if Viktor is planning to try to get close to us in order to infiltrate Piltover? _

As much as he wanted to voice his concern, Ezreal kept the questions inside, even though he was itching to ask them. He had no choice but to try to understand, for Jayce's sake. He'd let one question slip, though.

"I just…it hurts me to say that I doubt you at all, Jayce. How can you be absolutely _sure_ that he's changed for the better?"

Hesitant in his response, the Defender took note of the young man's anxious heart. A weary look shown upon his face as his eyes wandered to the floor. His jaw dropping, leaving his mouth agape. It was a shallow breath that escaped him instead of words. His own doubt hanging above him as he desperately searched for a reason to vouch for the half-caste. "I don't question your mistrust about this." Jayce lifting his head to view the explorer. "I can't even find the reason why I did what I did." his words lost with a shaken voice. "I_ want to believe_ that men can change. Viktor was on a path that lead him to darkness, perhaps he found his light." iced eyes shifting to the Herald.

"Should he… Viktor" the hero nodding his head, never breaking sight of the man. "have found a new way to live his life, perhaps we should grant him the mercy of being _human_ again." Jayce found himself shifting his weight to stand up right, his hands twisting together, but his eyes never wavered from Viktor. His stare piercing into the other man. "Don't make me regret pulling you from that hell."

_Just like I did so many years ago when you showed yourself in my lab. _

"Ezreal…" the Defender's head turned to take in the young man's expression. "Has anyone forgiven you for a deep mistake you've made? Would you not want the same forgiveness? Perhaps our friend here has never known this. Would you expect such kindness in the grave abyss that is Zaun?" his words rang low with a serious bitterness to them, his brow lifted ready to receive the rebuttal for either of the men. "Any man not guilty of a crime, be the first to throw a stone." Jayce's hand lifting edged like a sword to point towards the Herald.

"Thank you… Jayce," the former Machine Herald glanced at the Defender, before turning his back to the other inventor.

There was nothing left for him to say, unless the Explorer wanted another, more elaborate apology or another, more thorough explanation of some sort. He sighed as he brought his hand up to his face and massaged his temples. He needed to repurpose himself; he had little to live for right now aside from actually existing.

"If you cannot find it in yourself to trust in me or Jayce, trust in yourself, Ezreal." Viktor quietly said. He then addressed the Hero, "I'll meet you at your house. We need to talk."

Ezreal stood in silence as his blue eyes kept darting back and forth between the fellow Piltovian and the Zaunite, and as much as he wanted to say something, the fragments of sentences remained jumbled around in his subconscious. He couldn't argue against Jayce, and he certainly wouldn't yell at him and tell him he was being foolish. The explorer was seldom at a loss for words, and he bit his lip as his vision finally settled on the Defender. Feeling defeated, he willed the words to come out.

"Jayce, you've given me no choice. All I can do is put my trust in you, like I've always done. They don't call you the Defender of Tomorrow for nothing, right? I don't have the right to tell you you're wrong. You've always been a better judge of character than even me." he forced a smile at the tall man, stuffing his hands in his pockets and trying to look as nonchalant as possible about the entire situation.

_Jayce is a hero. He sees the good in people no matter how dark or evil they seem. That's what a hero does._

_…but Viktor?_

_I'm not going to deny that change can definitely happen, and that it **did** happen here, but it's going to take a hell of a long time to ever convince me to have a good reason to trust this madman. Does Jayce even know that he strapped me down and threatened to laser me in half after I sent Nadri away?_

_…it's a story for another time, I guess._

"I'm not going to promise I won't be at least a bit hostile, though." Ezreal's smile faded and a stern look took its place as he kept his gaze on the Defender, though he could see Jayce wasn't even looking at him in the first place. "I expect you to understand that our points of view are different, Jayce. I hope you can at least realize that this whole situation might take some…getting used to."

A cold breeze took the warmth out of Jayce's breath. Eyes cold and washed over as he lowered his hand. His voice began to break with his words as he turned to the young prodigy. "Should _anything_ happen to _anyone_ in Piltover." vision taking in blonde "I'll take the fall." Jayce didn't understand what he was doing, why he was taking responsibility for the man that almost banished him to the afterlife. Was it sympathy for a broken soul or was it the inventor's duty to stand for those who couldn't do it themselves? He didn't know, he didn't understand.

The hand of the broad shouldered man lifted to shield the scar that adorned his left side. "Ezreal, take faith in me that I'll personally keep watch over the half-caste." it was the only thing he could say to at least put the boy at ease, but were there any words to really comfort the young explorer? He felt the uneasiness in his heart and only softly shook his head. His lips curling into his mouth as he doubt his own choices, there was much to desire from this change in Viktor. However, should it be a false mask that the herald had placed upon himself, then he had been successful in appearing broken enough to grab at the hero's commiseration.

"We'll talk later." Jayce's voice stern towards the Machine Herald. His eyes lifting to look upon the man and then lower to his feet. It was a strange thing to have defended his rival…

A strange thing indeed.

_'Half-caste.'_

How dehumanizing but true, he was hardly man and barely machine, neither human nor metal. Viktor was just a pariah of his people while the Herald was just a horrible dream warped into failure. Hearing what Jayce referred to him as oddly stung. It was old, the name, but it stung nonetheless.

The truth stung.

The Zaunite bit down on the inside of his cheek, nodding to himself his silent realization. The broken inventor stared down at both of his black palms, one of which glistened in the daylight, and turned them over and then back again. Slowly, he curled both into fists, feeling his muscles and hydraulics pulling in unison. Lowering his arms, Viktor looked over his shoulder and corrected the Hero.

"Viktor." he said suddenly with a grim smile etched on his face. "I have a name. Use it."

With that, he took his leave and headed toward a steam-powered vehicle, following the paved roads of the Institute. His pace was slow and even, finally allowing his senses to soak in the little details of the world and the bustling din of the community. The voices of the explorer and defender were soon drowned out by the hum of everyday life.

He would wait for Jayce with a kettle of tea and two cups between them.


	3. Chapter 3

"You'll…take the fall?" Ezreal asked in an almost inaudible murmur, almost like he didn't understand that Jayce was saying. His left eyebrow cocked curiously as he listened to Viktor say his last words and then turn to leave, his metal shoes clicking on the shiny tiled hallway with each step. When Viktor was out of sight completely and the explorer heard the large double doors echo and slam shut, he took it upon himself to walk a few steps toward the Defender and then stop.

Dead quiet.

Neither of the Piltovians breathed or moved a muscle.

During the silence, Ezreal took the time to gaze up at the taller man's features, noticing something that almost made his heart stop. Jayce's voice might have been stern, but his face told a different story. What was that unfamiliar expression in the Defender's eyes? Fear? Confusion? None of those seemed to fit on the usually calm and collected inventor's face, and Ezreal actually felt the icy chill go down his spine.

"Jayce." he finally broke the silence, his voice cracking as he spoke.

"What the hell are you _doing_?"

He stood quiet for a few moments before finally speaking, his jaw clenched with every word. "Trying to save a man the world cast away." The defender's eyes trailing off to view the solid metal doors of the institute's main entrance. His face empty, void of emotion now. His chest rose with a hollow breath. "If am successful or not… well.. only time will tell the outcome." Jayce's head lowering, his hand thumbing at the bridge of his nose in agitation. He couldn't explain his motives to the young explorer without being called mad, though it seemed he was already being branded so.

His eyes closed tightly as his teeth sunk into his lower lip "I know you doubt me, Ezreal." blue eyes finally resting upon the boy "I don't expect you to understand what I'm doing, but— I want to help him. If not me then who else? You certainly don't seem to want to. Look at the people that are spawned from Zaun. Mundo… Do you think Mundo would comfort him after abandoning his cause? Or the tactician Swain? The man that never tolerates weakness?" the head of the man shook vigorously as he lowered his hand.

The hero finally crouched down resting his head into his hands. "Look at his life this way. Being left to _live_ in the hell that is Zaun, never being comforted, never being told you're made for better things. Ezreal, that _was_ Viktor's existence. When I went into his lab many years ago to destroy the arcane crystal. I saw pipes, covered in darkness and grime. His acolytes? Empty husks of men that became scientific playthings." He finally ran his hand through his hair pulling it back to press it against his forehead. "Imagine if that was _your_ life, Ezreal. If all you knew was that collection of metal, rust and hopelessness. It takes its toll. I'm surprised he's still alive."

Ezreal listened carefully and intently, but no matter how much Jayce tried to paint Viktor in a sympathetic light, it still didn't change Ezreal's opinion. The Machine Herald had been seemingly permanently engraved into the explorer's mind as a psychotic madman who cared little about the people around him and obsessed over what he considered perfection.

_This is a man who has insulted me, practically taken me hostage, threatened to hurt the people I love…_

_…and yet, Jayce wants to defend him. _

_Always the hero. Always the damn hero._

Staring up at Jayce with his own sad blue eyes, the explorer shrugged limply and sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets as the amulet flickered lightly with a golden hue in response to his swirling emotions. He trailed his gaze to the floor, the corner of his bottom lip pulled into his mouth.

"I know you just want to do what you think is right, Jayce…"

He slowly raised his eyes again, brow furrowing in frustration. He gritted his teeth as he looked at the Defender, internally conflicted and fighting within himself while he struggled to keep the words inside. He knew it was futile, and after another few silent seconds, he spoke, the words clear and blunt.

"…But you can't save _everyone_."

Ezreal kept staring, his expression hardened.

No remorse, no regret.

Ezreal wasn't blind, nor was he naive to the way Jayce was feeling. He could blatantly see the disappointment the Defender's iced eyes, and that alone made the explorer's heart begin to beat erratically, the amulet pulsing accordingly with flickers of gold. He felt like he was drowning, and he wanted to scream and shout at Jayce, to grasp his collar and shake him and somehow _make_ him understand that Viktor changing for the better was as likely as Cho'Gath deciding he never wanted to eat anyone ever again.

The air within the walls of the Institute was heavy, stale, and each time Ezreal desperately tried to fill his lungs, it felt like he was trying to inhale bars of lead, making the uncomfortable pit in his stomach grow more heavy with each breath.

The fact that Jayce was now walking away from him only made it worse.

"There's a world of difference between people like _us_, and people like _that_ man." Ezreal called out, shaking finger pointing accusingly toward the space that Viktor had previously stood in a few minutes back even though Jayce's back was to him and he was unable to see. "I'm not saying you and I are perfect, I'm just saying that there's some people that you shouldn't even _try_ to help because they're not worth your goddamn _time_! He might be brilliant, but there's a fine line between genius and fucking _insanity_!"

The explorer's gruff voice got louder the more distance the hero created between them until finally it dwindled to nothing.

"We all have flaws, Jayce." Ezreal spoke softy, knowing the Defender probably didn't hear him. A couple summoners rounded the corner then, and Ezreal quickly shot them a glare, causing them to promptly scatter away like cockroaches.

"Is he a gifted scientist? Yes. I'll give him props for that. He's gifted as shit. Is he a good person? _No_. Why can't you see this, Jayce?" the explorer's voice cracked audibly as it echoed through the empty hallway. "Why try to save a man's life when just yesterday he wouldn't have thought twice about saving yours?"

It pained Ezreal to speak to Jayce like this, and he never thought he'd ever see the day where he'd grow the slightest bit untrustworthy of this heroic man he'd grown up with, and he felt a lump in his throat and a burning sensation in the corners of his eyes as he took a ragged, sharp breath.

"Maybe _you've_ changed. Not Viktor."

"And so have _you_." The hero's words shot out into the young explorer like a dagger in the night. "What abominations have we become to not allow forgiveness, Ezreal." He turned to face the blonde haired questioner and folded his hands in front of him, standing rigid before him.

"Tell me. What are we going to do with him? Would you have me throw him to the wolves of the Piltovian Government, as careless as they are? Have him laid bare in front of the institute, so that they'll enslave him to servitude? What would that do other than diminish a hope for change." Jayce carrying a strange sense of bitterness to his voice.

The man found himself questioning the intentions of the lion haired boy and his head lifted to give a pressured stare. "I'm actually quite disappointed with you. As I'm sure you are with me. Though I have my reasons." he corrected himself from any further questioning "Your animosity towards Viktor won't help him, and if you're so against him being what he is now, avoid my lab. It would be best for you I would think. Though I've come to hear you can't leave the institute regardless." A heavy breath caught itself on the stiff air of the institute. "Take out of this what you will, but I_ always_ must help a man in need. It's in my blood, my being; it was how I was raised. Be it for the worst _or_ the best. Tomorrow needs a brighter future, Ezreal, and I _must_ light our path."

The harsh words of the Defender cut through Ezreal's thick skin as if they were a hot knife through butter, and the explorer audibly gasped, his defensive shell he'd maintained until then shattering to pieces. It was in that very moment he realized how pathetically easy it was for Jayce to hurt him, and he stared into the eyes of the man across the hallway as if he had been shot through the chest, blue eyes widened and moist, though no tears were allowed to freely fall.

_Avoid my lab._

The words stung him, and they repeated through his mind over and over. _Avoid his lab_?! This man that he had grown up with, that he had considered a hero, a brother, a best friend, was telling him to _avoid_ him because of _Viktor_? The flabbergasted blonde swallowed down the lump in his throat and stared down at the floor, trying to find words.

_It's not fair. It's not fucking _**_fair_**_._

"Years, Jayce." he stuttered, voice weak and lacking its usual power, at least for the first few syllables. Ezreal's fists clenched together and he stepped forward, arcane energy spewing out of the sides of the amulet and crackling as his strength somehow returned, fueled by rage. "We have known each other **_years_**, and you're telling me to _avoid_ you because of a fucking _psychopath_ randomly deciding that he wants to change for the better?! If that's the case, I don't need you anyway, Jayce, if you're willing to just throw your entire goddamn city-state under the bus for the good of one man."

Ezreal panted for breath, his eyes slightly glowing with the influx of emotions. More crackling, more sputtering could be heard from the amulet as seemingly harmless flickers of energy shot up and swirled around in the air for a few seconds and then evaporated into nothing. "A man in need, Jayce? Remember who you fought for before. Who you protected. Who you protected it _from_. It was for Piltover, Jayce. Remember that word? It's your fucking _home_." he spat out, the crackles amplifying in sound.

"You protected us from _Viktor_, and in a matter of seconds he managed to turn you against us. Look what you're doing right now, Jayce. Look what you're doing to _**me**_! Who's next? Caitlyn? Vi? Orianna, even? What about the professor? It's only a matter of time before you leave every one of us behind you because of a fucking _ounce _of hope that might not even be legitimate."

Catching his breath, Ezreal backed down, putting his other hand on his gauntlet to try and quiet the energy waves. "You think I've changed? No, Jayce. I'll say it again. _You're_ the one who has definitely changed, and this just proves it even more. I won't go near your lab, or have any contact with you unless we're in a match together. This is what you want, right?"

He didn't wait for the answer before turning around and walking down the corridor in the opposite direction, head hung low and his lip quivering as he held in the tears. It was almost like a nightmare, but unfortunately, this was the reality that he'd now been tossed into.

His best friend had been turned against him, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

It was a cruel twist of events that set the corruption that would stain the relationship between the explorer and defender. He sighed when he watched the boy walk away. The young blonde haired prodigy's disapprobation troubled the older man greatly. The hero taking a step forward as if to call out to the boy but stopped his hand from gesturing towards him. His fingers collapsing into his palm as his arm dropped lifelessly to his side. An abandoned hero left to confront his decisions regarding the half-caste— _alone_. It was not a path he was unfamiliar with however. He had traveled this road before and it was filled with desperation and anxiety.

"Ezreal…" he whispered to himself. His feet turning him towards the door, welcoming the warm light of the sun. It would be a long way back to Piltover, but he would write the young explorer to warm his now acerbic disposition towards the hero. The pain of guilt riding the back of his mind. Words of avoiding his lab echoing in his consciousness. The hero knew the outcome, disrupted work, absolute madness and mental affliction.

What Ezreal refused to agree upon was Jayce's undying loyalty to the city of Pitlover. The Defender would sacrifice his life to protect the brothers and sisters of Piltover over the safety of Machine Herald at any time. As pitiless as the truth was. _One day_ the boy would realize this. Even though all the years he had watched the young lion haired boy grow up, he found the prodigy had a strong will. Should anything come that Ezreal disliked, the other party would know and it was apparent he hadn't changed. However, the hero was mistaken that the explorer had blossomed into a more forgiving young man. A more trusting individual in his opinion seeing as Jayce _had_ suffered the consequences of the wrath of Viktor.

As time progressed the more the words that poured from the explorer's mouth stung like a bittersweet poison. Coursing through the Piltovian's veins like a raging torrent of regret and sorrow. He buried himself in his mind as he took his first steps into the light, his hands in stride with his chiseled walk.

"_One day the prodigy will understand my plight…_"


	4. Chapter 4

Never before had Ezreal slammed his Institute door so hard.

The angry shudder reverberated through the slightly empty halls of the second floor of the Institute, echoing all the way down to the adjacent corridor. Summoners who had been in the vicinity stopped in their tracks and turned their hooded heads toward the noise, but none dared approach it. Ezreal's steps toward his quarters had been oddly calm, but as soon as his gloved hand had touched the door's handle, he snapped.

_Jayce. How could you?_

_Traitor._

**_Fucking_**_ traitor._

The events that had transpired just minutes ago were burned into the explorer's brain, white hot and vivid as a branding iron, and it was then he'd noticed the gasps that had been wracking his slender frame as he struggled to breathe, angry tears sparkling in his half-lidded eyes. His best friend, the Defender of Tomorrow, one of the only people in the entire damn world who he thought would _always_ have his back, had turned on him for the least likely person imaginable.

Viktor.

As much as he tried to search for it, there wasn't a single ounce of logic to be found in the entire situation, and the only thing Ezreal could do was collapse against the wall, hugging his knees to his chest. The usually strong explorer's guard had been completely shattered by Jayce's words and actions, and he felt cut open, exposed, and vulnerable. Although he didn't allow himself to actually pass tears, audible, dry sobs made his chest heave with each passing second.

_You're supposed to _**_light_**_ our path, and instead all you're doing is dimming it into nothing. Is that what our future is, Jayce? Blackness? Nothingness? _

_Is this what you wanted? To turn against the very people you sought out to protect? Some defender._

It wasn't long before the amulet had began crackling again and wisps of golden energy sizzled out from the underside of the blue jewel, responding to the heated emotions that burned through the explorer's veins. With another anguished cry, Ezreal slammed his right fist into the wall and then cursed in pain as he pulled it back, his muscles tense and his knuckles red. The display of anger wasn't exactly practical, but he felt that he had to do_ something _to channel out the inner turmoil of losing a man he'd grown up with.

The gauntlet buzzed as Ezreal slowly stood up, keeping his back pressed against the wall for balance, and he turned his head toward his desk, blue gaze tearful and still stubborn. With slow, almost timid steps, the explorer made his way over to the desk and flopped into his chair with a heavy sigh. His brow furrowed as he felt his hands moving with little to no conscious thought process, the left one reaching for a blank piece of parchment and the right one sliding into the inside of his jacket to seek out one of his pieces of sketching charcoal. With the tears still shimmering on his lower lashes, the blonde began to sketch out random lines.

As if bewitched, the charcoal seemed to move by itself as the meaningless lines soon transformed into a crude sketch of the so-called hero, and the realization of what he was sketching only served to make Ezreal's vision become even blurrier with tears. Slowly, the explorer laid down the piece of charcoal, not bothering to finish the sketch.

"It's over. You've made your choice." he said to the piece of paper as bright memories flashed through his head. When they were both younger, the first thing Ezreal would do as soon as he got back from an expedition was run toward Jayce's workshop, a lot smaller than it was now, and bring him stories of whatever adventure he'd just returned from. Though he'd never admitted it out loud before, that had always been one of the highlights of his adventures and definitely one of the things he'd looked forward to the most.

Now he'd never do it again.

With a shallow, staggering breath, Ezreal grasped the drawing with both hands and promptly crumpled it up before tossing it in the air and making short work of it with an expertly aimed Mystic Shot. As the ashes fluttered down onto his desk, he knew it had to be done. There was no choice but to let the years of memories fade away and die.

The hero of Piltover, the city-state's greatest chance for a brighter tomorrow, had sided with the enemy and could no longer be trusted, and it was time to face the future.

_ If Viktor managed to turn Jayce against Piltover, who knows who else he'll turn against Piltover?_

_I'd rather not think about it._

_You might have been able to fool Jayce, Herald, but your pathetic and laughable attempts for redemption won't _**_ever_**_ work on _**_me_**_._

_Rot._


	5. Chapter 5

The Zaunite thumbed at the black leather that adorned his hands, absentmindedly picking at the little wrinkles and cracks that crept around his steel wrist. Leaning back against a steam-powered vehicle, he watched crowds of people hustling by, and gently tugged on the hem of his left glove snagged by his joint.

_'We need to talk…'_ his heavy voice repeated in his head while a strange tightness began forming in the pit of his stomach at the thought. The knot grew, '_But what to say?_' Viktor wet his dry lips and pursed them in contemplation. This was perplexing, trying to find his Self in a steel labyrinth, and then revealing that to another person. Was he trying to venture further into the dark, into the core of a broken, feeble man? Or was he trying to find the way out of this maze of madness. Though how could he really when he was groping blindly for the chain or red string that would lead him to the truth, one the Zaunite believed did not even exist for that matter. He needed to light his path, take a step forward, and never look back.

Viktor let out a shuddery breath and narrowed his eyes. Turning his head toward the direction of the Institute, half expecting a certain champion to come waltzing out from the sea of robed summoners. What an odd twist of fate, considering the chances, to end up saved by the one person he antagonized, haunted, and wanted dead so to speak. Maybe, that was where he could start, from the beginning.

Start from the beginning again, that was something he was familiar with. This time, he would tell Jayce everything. This time, he was ready.

The Zaunite was ready to go _home_.

"Where are you, Jayce?"

The man stalked about the mouth of the institute, pulling himself towards a familiar figure. His armor sounding off as he marched towards the Herald at a brisk pace. The coarse leather gloves lifting to wave the other into the car. The other slamming atop the car, his eyes looking into the Heralds with deep concern. His brow dropped into a vicious stare as parted lips gave way to a grained voice "So help you, if you're _lying_ to me, I'll wring your neck. Not only have you wrought the hatred of Ezreal on me, but I'll be damned into perdition if you turn on me." the flat hand now turning into an accusatory point, baring into the half-caste.

"Make me an honest man and you the new found_ guardian_, Viktor. Not the _Perjurer_." the pointed finger now writhing into the leather of his glove, which squealed out a wicked sound of crunching material. The free hand grasping at the door handle in a quickened manner.

Jayce sat idly as he awaited the other to enter the vehicle. His mind transfixed on the absinthian taste left in his mouth from his _talk _with the kid.

_"And in a matter of seconds **he** managed to turn you against us…_"

_Viktor… _

Hissing into his subconscious, the name struck into his nerves like a blade of the night, piercing his tolerance for the situation he had put himself into. An unforgiving burn that seared into his heart, branding itself into him like a scarlet letter.

_Betrayer. Coward. Fool._

The teeth of the defender gritting together leaving an unsettling sound to ring through the car until finally the fist's of Jayce slammed into the steering wheel out of frustration. Punch after punch. A furious growl came out of him as he leaned into the machine, his hands white-knuckling the circle. He calmed himself before the click of the door was heard from the passenger side. His chest heaved with heavy breath as he pushed himself up-right. His eyes deadlocked onto the console, teeth still grinding into one another.

The Zaunite closed the passenger door and settled in to the leather seat of the vehicle with eyes calmly watching the defender's displayed rage. Although his face remained apathetic, he felt each word thrust into him like a serrated dagger, twisting sharply through flesh and into bone. Maintaining his composure, Viktor waited a brief moment for the man's aggressive behavior to abate before he reached across the glove compartment to clasp a firm hand on Jayce's forearm. The half-caste locked eyes with the hero:

"Breathe." Viktor said nonchalantly, oddly taking a deep breath as well. He looked into the man's eyes, "You don't have to do this." As soon as those words slipped from his lips, he bit his tongue; and immediately, a bitter iron taste filled his mouth as he tried to elaborate further. However, he found nothing better to continue with so instead he found himself repeating himself once more. "You don't."

The Zaunite felt the affliction emanating from the Piltovian inventor. Swallowing the pungent flavor of blood again, he slowly uncurled his gloved fingers and withdrew his hand. Viktor then turned his head away, eyes resting on the dashboard, and whispered, his voice barely audible above the hum of the engine.

"But thank you for… _defending_ me, Jayce."

Viktor set his hands down on his lap. His coat scrunched beneath his fingers as his hands turned into clenched fists. The Zaunite waited patiently for the other man to respond. Whatever the Hero decided, Viktor was prepared to face the music.

"I wish it were that simple…"

Discord pierced his mind like a cursed fallacy, leaving the man to sit idly in the driver's seat of the vehicle. The rage that had fed on his misfortune, finally subsiding with the touch of the Herald. Whether or not the Defender found consolation in the other man's attempt, was unseen by Viktor. Jayce's gaze only shot forward, empty and alone. Dead eyes seemed to linger too long on the now warped leather of the wheel.

"What I've done… is absolutely _unforgivable_." Eyes shutting closed as lips pulled themselves back into his cheeks. His lips taken captive by his mouth, an absolute look of malfeasance. He sat quiet for a few moments before iced eyes brought back the light that was the world of Runeterra. Capturing everything around him. The defender felt as if he were in a dream now, lost in a strange pit of limbo that he could not climb out of. Allying with adversaries and deserting brethren, a strange emptiness took home in the heart of the hero as he slumped slightly in his seat, now even more visibly distraught than before.

Jayce searched his mind for anything he could say, any words that would allow him to express the blackness that was seeping into his subconsciousness. But it was drowning him, smothering him away from the light of trust and friendship. He was a coward, a coward that refused to turn his back on a man that wanted him dead.

A coward that broke one of the closet people to him.

_Why_. The hero questioned himself over and over, completely oblivious of the running car and half-caste sitting next to him. His departure from this place would seal his fate with the young prodigy, but after he lingered on his contemplation, he realized— he had already severed any kind of bond the two had.

Anger boiled within him again as he screamed, bolting himself forward in a violent manner against the wheel of the vehicle, sobbing mercilessly into it's leather covering.

"What have I done?!" his voice cracked as gloves screeched against the wheel. "There's no salvation from this, I'm damned to forever lose my 'brother'. All because of _you." _heaving himself back into the seat his hands pummeled into his cheeks, an exasperated gasp came from him as he tried to bring himself to a calm. His cries becoming more distressed than before.

"Damnit!" his breathing erratic and completely uncontrollable. The eyes of the hero bolting open, tinged with red from the tears. Searching aimlessly into the ceiling of the car as if to find answers there. "Viktor…" a small whimper escaped the hero as he sat defenseless in front of the herald. "You have to make this right again… You have to show them you've changed… please, for my sanity… for my friends…for everyone. Show them you've actually changed, don't make my pain be in vain, for the love of god…" there was no mistaking the stress that played through his voice like a tragic melody.

The Zaunite shook his head, his face holding an empty look of pity for the other inventor. "I can't promise you that, but what I can promise you, Jayce," he looked the afflicted man in the eyes, "that I am no longer who I was. Not the Machine Herald. Not the Viktor of Zaun."

_ "I'm damned to forever lose my 'brother'. All because of you." _

The hero's words rung in his head almost painfully, causing the man to shift in his seat. Viktor released his coat, fingers leaving impressions in the fabric, and brought his hands to his head and running them through his hair. Gathering himself, Viktor reminded the Piltovian, "Jayce, what you've done? You've saved a life. You saved _me_ when you could have easily let me go. But you didn't. It was solely _your_ choice." He stressed, "Yours."

Had it been the other way around with Jayce's back to the edge, Viktor was certain the results would have been different. "Look," Viktor added, "I can leave. If this will fix everything for you, I can do that."

Viktor found it difficult to comfort the Defender when he was the root of all his troubles. The vile and toxic source was sitting right next to the Hero. The former Herald looked to the passenger door and back at the man. He repeated again,

"I can go. You've done enough. You've suffered needlessly and enough because of me. It's not… too late to go back to Ezreal. He is your brother not your enemy. If he can't see that, then it is he that has betrayed you."

The unsettling pulling sound the Defender's gloves made on the steering wheel filled the vehicle in a shrill squeal. The thick air leading it hard to breathe. Desperation. He _needed_ to do this, he _needed_ to prove a point to the Prodigy, but the lurking darkness that struggled to keep his soul captive hung like a curse. The hero's doubts surfacing stronger than ever about the herald's loyalties. "You say you've changed…" Jayce began, a bitter tone in his voice "I know you almost dived off that tower… but why… Why did you try and kill yourself, Herald. Was it knowing that I'd be there? Did you know that I was lurking in Zaun, watching you personally?" an embroiled look took hold of the hero's face, wanting for an answer, any answer that he could use to justify his betrayal.

His mind throwing him back to the night that the Half-caste jeopardized his existence…

_He recalled the throttling winds that conquered the city, in a desperate golden fog that held fast. The hero pulling down the dark cloak that hid him away from the denizens of Zaun, watching the troubled augmented man strut about the courtyard as if debating his actions. The defender's eyes piercing into the other man, waiting for the Herald to advance to a new destination. It had been weeks since his arrival here in Zaun and his recent information of the Herald sent the Piltovian to personally investigate. The bustle of the market weaving through the various stands of goods: from metal for mechanical works, to strange fleshy substances that held a putrid stench.  
_  
_The hero's watch was ever devoted to the ideal that the Herald had stopped working on his evolution. The informants' words leaving a shy suggestion that the half-caste had planned to abandon his cause, broken from lack of progress, and so there was Jayce, observing the man himself. Leaving no trace of his arrival or presence. It was not like the defender to go about such low tactics, but he had to make sure._

Suddenly, the Herald took leave for a tower, one of the taller structures in the city. Climbing it's rusted shapes upwards until the top. The hero lurking behind him, letting the shadows shield him from unwanted eyes. And there in the final moment, He saw the man that was known as Viktor. Take his first step towards the edge of oblivion. Lips parted as the winds bolted a wicked gust into the defender, thrusting the hood of his shadow off his head. Exposing his deep brown hair to the yellow fog.

_Furious winds whipped about the clothes of the two men as the hero watched the Herald stand upon the edge of the tower. "What are you doing?!" he called out to him, the dense yellow fog of Zaun brushing between the two figures."You're going to throw away a life's worth of work, **and for what**?!" his voice struggling to carry through the fierce winds. "This isn't the Machine Herald that stuck me down so many years ago! **WHERE IS HE**?!" the hero stretching his arm out as if to grab at the other man._

**_"Dead. As I will be."_**

Dead eyes now looked into the Herald, his lips parted with his recollection of the day. "Tell me _why_…" his voice begged.

"Since when did _you_ become so conceited, Hero_? _Did you think that I had cared for your existence at that moment? I cared for nothing." he remarked in an off hand manner with a slight twitch of his right thumb. "I was simply selfish, tired of my failures and feeling the weight of my sins upon me. It's funny how the old fairy tales and cliches carry a grain of truth…. Atlas and his burden?"

"Need I remind you…" his lips drew into a frown, "that had I gone, you would have fallen as well. And in that moment, I thought I couldn't deprive the future of its tomorrow. That is why I sit here now. Because tomorrow needs protecting, yes?" His head cocked to the side as he turned to face the Defender, a wisp of a smile on his lips.

The rage that boiled in the hero was not helped by the Heralds snide remarks of his delayed end. "I pull you from your hell, give you a second chance and now you're spitting malicious words towards me." the defender snapped almost lashing out at the other man. Recollecting himself the defender sat back into the leather. "_Deprive the future of its tomorrow_. Tomorrow will **_always_** come, Viktor." Jayce scorned "My apprentice will carry on my work should I fall along my path." The defender's glare rattled the half-caste and after a time broke his look upon the other. His hands dropping into his lap, adjusting himself to begin the drive to Piltover.

"I had watched you for quite some time before you decided to throw yourself off that tower." the hero added after a silence had hung in the humming car. The dimming sun behind them as they attempted to meet the moon. "You looked… browbeaten and worn. There were moments where I thought it was appropriate to approach you but I was always cut off by a random denizen of Zaun." Jayce's words fell off as he spoke, losing themselves upon the Herald's ears.

Darkness had fallen upon the road as they progressed steadily towards the techmaturgy capital of Runeterra. The growl of the engine filling the emptiness of the vehicle as they drove. No other words were shared between the two, no idle banter of where he would keep the herald, no talk of his apprentice any further. The defender was absolutely focused on just getting back to Piltover to remove himself from everyone, to settle himself if you will.

He knew the young girl, Mira, would appreciate his need to do so. Viktor, however, may cause this needed solitude problems. He felt uneasy at the thought of leaving the half-caste with his apprentice. Was she as impressionable with him as she was with the hero? His face became contorted in annoyance as he thought to himself.

Could he trust the Herald with the others…?

The Zaunite opened his mouth to refute the man's accusation; but he decided against saying any more, no need to add fuel to the flames. The former Herald's words had fallen on deaf ears, so Viktor promptly elevated his jaw until his mouth shut, and he leaned against the side door. Better he wait for the storm to calm before he should set sail. He had to ride it out sitting in the car, watching the world fly pass him. If the Piltovian perceived his words as spiteful when they were sincere, then clearly there was little point in trying to reason with Jayce when half of his attention was on the slick road and the other focused on trying to justify his betrayal of his supposed brother.

Try and pin the blame on the half-caste, make him out to be the sacrificial lamb. Viktor was far from blameless though, the atrocities his hands had committed. The cranium that sat atop his personal desk, the cadavers he bought easily with the clinking of coin, and the many willing human volunteers he had proselytized for clinical trials. Of course there were valid reasons to make him the goat. Although he was deserving of the Hero's pent up fury, it, however, did not make Jayce's words anymore _right_. Regardless, Viktor gladly swallowed the bitterness. In the very least it gave him something to occupy the vacant space within him. What did it matter to a hollowed soul to add another tally and tick to a mangled corpse? That was his mentality during experimentations.

Suddenly the echoes of the Herald's thoughts swirled in his head, _'Adapt or be removed_.' It crept from the recesses of his mind, a haunting whisper on the wind.

But Viktor knew better, the choice was simple. He chose the latter after having set the timer in motion, listening to the whirring of the vehicle's motors like clockwork and the raindrops like constant ticking. Viktor sat back and repressed the machine to observe from a new and removed perspective.

A strange lethargy silenced the Zaun inventor completely until finally he felt the rumbling of the engines halt. He stirred to life as the steam machine died, looking at the familiar home from the paved way. A leather hand hooked around a lock and a handle, Viktor pushed open the passenger door. The half-caste felt the crunching of gravel beneath his heavy black boots as he surveyed the other man's house. The wide windows overlooking the city of Piltover, it had been a good while since he last stepped foot on the estate. He took a few strides toward the door, a deep imprint with every move from the weight of metal. Viktor pursed his lips as he looked to the entrance of the humble abode and then back at the Defender. Last he heard a certain little girl was taken under Jayce's wings as his new apprentice now nested here. He recalled the image of a tiny child with light ashen brown hair with a personality that more than made up for her lack of height. What was her name, he racked his mind. They had spoken on a few occasions. Looking at the sea of storm clouds, he remembered:

_Mira_, the Messenger from the City of Spero.


End file.
